


Five Steps Behind

by rhiannonhero



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M, Post-308
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-08
Updated: 2010-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-05 23:40:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhiannonhero/pseuds/rhiannonhero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-308, Michael's reaction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Steps Behind

Post-308

 

Ben told him to stop being a worry wart, but Michael knew better. Brian hadn't shown up at Babylon the night before and had called in sick to the office. Cynthia joked that it must've been one amazing trick to wear Brian out enough to call in with excuses, especially when he sounded so jovial about it.

Michael knew what that meant. It meant that Brian was still high from the night before and had probably never even gone to sleep--unless he'd gone to sleep and still been fucked-up in the morning. And if that was the case, then something really bad must've happened because Brian only got that fucked-up when it had to do with Jack Kinney, who was long dead, or Justin, who was long gone.

So, of course, Michael was worried. Something was wrong, very wrong. Maybe Brian's mom had died? Wouldn't Brian have called him if something drastic had happened like Joan turning up dead, or Claire accusing him of molestation again?

He wasn't sure of that anymore. Every since he'd told Brian that Ben had almost left him due to their partying escapades after the Justin-disaster, Brian hadn't been coming around as much.

But if Brian needed him, he'd make sure that Brian at least knew that he would drop everything for him, because it would be the two of them, forever. Mikey and Brian--the way it always was and always would be. Best friends.

Michael took a detour on his way to the comic shop and dropped by the loft. He was about to buzz to be let in, when one of Brian's neighbors exited the building. Catching the door, Michael let himself into the building, and tramped up the stairs to Brian's loft. He raised his hand, banged hard, and yelled, "Brian! Brian, wake the fuck up!"

He pressed his ear to the door. He heard the heavy thump-thump of feet hitting the floor, and the slap against wood as Brian crossed the loft. Several seconds later, the loft door slid open, and Brian stood in wearing nothing but a loose pair of sweats, his hair tousled and his eyes sex-heavy.

"Why, Mikey, what a surprise." Brian opened the door wider, and walked toward the kitchen as Michael came in. "What's up?"

Michael looked around the loft; nothing seemed amiss. "You didn't come to Babylon last night."

"I got busy."

Michael leaned against the counter, watching Brian pour guava juice into a tall glass. "Huh. Well, Cynthia said--"

"Came to check up on me, Mikey?" Brian leaned across the counter and planted a sticky kiss on Michael's forehead.

Michael reached up and rubbed it off. "Well, I was worried. You didn't show last night, and you called in sick. That's just not like you."

"What? Not to show? Someone was in desperate need of getting fucked by my cock. What's new about that?"

"Nothing. I'm just saying it's not like you to call in sick." Michael felt on the verge of stomping his feet in frustration.

"That's sweet, Mikey, but as you can see, I'm alive and well."

Michael studied Brian. He looked well-fucked, relaxed, and dangerously happy. "What the fuck's going on?"

Brian grimaced. "What are you talking about?"

"You look like you just discovered how to spend the rest of your life fucking without ever getting soft again! You look like you've learned the secret to the One True Orgasm!"

"Maybe I did, Mikey."

Michael rolled his eyes. "Give me a fucking break and tell me what's going on."

"What? So I had a good fuck." Brian's eyes flashed. "Christ, don't make a fucking federal case out of me getting laid."

Michael blinked at him. "You getting laid might be of interest if it didn't happen every fucking day!"

Brian raised his eyebrow.

"Fine, two or three times a day! No, there's something else going on--"

"Mikey, Mikey, Mikey--" Brian steered him toward the loft door. "Listen, go tend your little comic book store, and then go home to spend a few hours worshipping Ben's brainy cock. And while you're at it, you can practice this new game called _mind your own fucking business_."

"So, there is something!"

Brian shoved him out the door. "Have a good day, Mikey. Give Ben kisses for me. Ta-ta."

"Brian!" Michael called out as the loft door slid shut in his face. He stood staring at it for a minute in frustration. He could only hope it wasn't something truly awful making Brian act weird.

Michael trudged down the stairs trying to place the last time he'd seen Brian looking so happy. He shuddered, frightened that he couldn't think of a time that didn't involve--Justin.

Oh, fuck.

::::

Michael sorted comic books all morning, muttering under his breath about the hustlers under his window at night, and Brian ditching work, and most of all Brian's bizarre _happiness_. It spelled trouble.

By the time Michael met Ben outside the diner for lunch, he'd worked himself up into what his mother would call a fuck-me-I'm-crazy frenzy.

"You don't _understand_, Ben. He was, like, _oozing_ happiness!"

Ben frowned as he held the diner door open for Michael. "I don't see the problem here. So your best friend is happy. That's bad because--?"

"Because Brian's only happy when it has to do with _him_!"

Ben slid into the booth, his mouth hanging open a bit, and his eyes rolling up as he seemed to puzzle through Michael's logic. "Yeah. Okay, Michael, I'm still not following."

"Justin! Don't you see?"

"What?" Ben asked, scoffing a little in disbelief. "Come on. Even if this does have something to do with Justin--and I'm not so certain that it does--maybe that would be a _good_ thing."

Michael's mouth flew open and he stared at Ben in disbelief. "What do you mean 'a good thing'? He broke his heart! He nearly killed him!"

"Now, Michael--" Ben stopped as Kiki approached their table. Ben segued into his order with a smile, "I'll have the garden salad with low fat ranch dressing."

"Double-cheese burger, fries, and a vanilla shake," Michael muttered, pushing the menu aside as Kiki grunted and turned away. "Seriously, Ben," he went on in a whisper, leaning across the table. "When Justin left it nearly killed him. You saw him! You saw what he went through. He was a fucking wreck!"

"I know. But, maybe it's not that at all. Maybe he met someone else."

Michael snorted. "You obviously don't know Brian. He'll never meet anyone else."

Ben sighed, took one of Michael's hands in his, and said, "That's what I'm saying, Michael. If it's Justin that's making him happy again, maybe you need to stop worrying and be happy for him. And if it's not Justin, then--well, we'll just have to wait and see."

Michael took a deep breath and sighed.

::::

Babylon was throbbing and so was Michael's head. He stood on the stairs with the guys, Ben's hand warm on the small of his back, while he watched the dance floor.

Brian and Justin were in the middle of the crowd, dancing to their own music, absorbed in each other. Kissing, touching, moving together like they were fucking joined at the hip or something. Michael knew he was glaring, but he couldn't help it.

"Am I seeing what I think I'm seeing?" Emmett asked, with astonished laughter.

"You are seeing it!" Ben agreed. "The greatest reunification since Germany."

Emmett's mouth hung open. "What happened to the fiddler?"

"He fell off the roof," Michael grumbled.

But that had been a month ago. Michael remembered the day that his mom found out. Debbie had been really pissed that Justin moved in with Daphne instead of coming back to live with her. She'd guilt-tripped the hell out of the kid while he tried to serve tables at the diner. Michael had tried not to choke on his lunch, laughing at Justin's attempts to dodge Debbie's wrath.

"So I'm not good enough for you any more, Mr. Ex-Boyfriend of a Fucking Music Star?" She'd demanded, hand on hip.

"No, Debbie. Of course not. I just thought I'd help Daph out with rent, that's all."

"So you're paying rent? When you could have been living with me for fucking free?" Debbie harrumphed. "What was it, Sunshine? The paper-thin walls? Did the noise from my vibrator scar you for fucking life?"

Justin had shuddered, and so had Michael, gagging on his food.

"Mom! Please!" he'd yelled at the same time that Justin had held up one hand and covered his mouth with the other.

"Deb, you promised to _never_ discuss that again." Justin paled and shoved away from the counter.

"Christ! You'd think that with all the times I had to listen to you fuck--and you aren't very fucking quiet, mister--" Debbie shook her finger in Justin's face. "You'd think you could handle one little fucking incident with my vibrator."

"I wish it was just one!" Justin had shot back, jerking free and plowing through the kitchen door, leaving Debbie cracking her gum, a hand on her hip.

That had been a month ago, and Michael had braced himself at the time for Justin's possible pursuit of Brian, but he'd been pleasantly surprised to find that Justin kept to himself. So, why now? Why did Justin wait a month before he came to claim what was his?

If Justin didn't look as blissed-out as Brian, Michael been entertaining nasty thoughts about money and tuition. But, watching them, there was no doubt. Justin was as much in love with Brian as Brian was in love with him.

Still, would it have killed Brian to give Michael a heads-up? Didn't he deserve at least that much? He'd been the one to hold Brian together when he'd come apart. He'd been the one who had to suffer through night after night of Brian's madness. And he'd be the one who had to go through it all again if Justin wasn't serious about this, if he was going to take off whenever something better presented itself.

So, if anyone deserved to know before the whole fucking world was informed, it was him. He was pulled out of his thoughts by Emmett stealing Ben for a dance.

::::

Michael sat across from Brian who was watching Justin work with a stupid half-smile on his face. Normally Michael would've said something so that Brian could save his pride by acting like an asshole for a few minutes. Instead, he just grinned, imagining himself for a moment as the foil to Rage, instead of his harmless side-kick.

"Mikey got laid," Brian sing-songed. His previously love-sick expression was replaced by an evil grin.

Michael shrugged. "I get laid all the time. You're not the only one getting hot action around here."

Brian's eyebrows went up and down, and then catching Justin's eye he licked his lips. "Spare me the details of your and the professor's perversions." He smiled wickedly when Justin returned the look, glanced toward the bathroom and raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me."

Michael rolled his eyes and slid down in his booth as Justin and Brian disappeared into the bathroom together. He wondered how long the marathon of make-up sex was going to go on. It'd been almost a week, for Christ's sake.

If he and Justin hadn't cleared the air several days earlier, he might be more annoyed than he was about the entire situation. But, even knowing that Justin was serious about giving the relationship another try, Michael found it obnoxious to have them constantly going at it--especially since Brian hadn't talked to him about it yet.

Michael glanced up, when Brian and Justin exited the bathroom both with flushed faces and messed up hair.

"Now, what were you saying?" Brian asked as he sat back down.

"Um, something about me getting hot action."

"Right. And then I got some."

"Yeah, about that--" Before Michael could continue with his comment, Justin sat a slice of apple pie down in front of Michael.

"Freshly made. Thought you'd like some."

Michael smiled up at him. "Thanks."

"No problem." Justin shrugged, and didn't even look at Brian as he said, "See you later. I'm late to class."

"Later," Brian murmured.

Michael shook his head slowly as Brian's lips curled into a lazy smile, and he gazed after Justin for much too long. Just pathetic.

::::

"So, aren't you ever going to tell me about it?" Michael finally asked over Chinese food and a joint. Brian's head rested in his lap and he ran his fingers through Brian's soft hair.

"About what?"

"About you and Justin."

"Huh?" Brian scrunched his brow as he puffed out perfect smoke rings.

"You know damn well what I'm talking about."

"Fill me in, Mikey." Brian chuckled. "Use little words."

"Well, one second you're single and the next you're back together. What the fuck's up with that?"

Brian shrugged and laughed a little. Michael's eyes bugged out. He couldn't believe it. Brian hadn't denied that he and Justin were _together_, hadn't tried to qualify it, or downplay it. Christ. It was the fucking Apocalypse.

"I think I should go to church tomorrow," Michael whispered. "The world is obviously ending."

Brian sat up, slapping Michael's thigh as he moved to stand. "Kiss my mother for me while you're there." He stopped at the fridge and pulled out two more beers. "Then be sure to tell her just exactly where those lips have been."

"So, you're really in love with him, huh?"

"Who said anything about love?"

Michael rolled his eyes. Well, at least Brian wasn't too far gone to protest _that_ word. Maybe the world wasn't going up in flames at any second, after all.

"So what happened? Did he come over and beg for your forgiveness?"

Brian looked at him for a moment then said, "Actually, he came in my mouth and begged for me to fuck him."

"Brian--"

"Michael."

And that was that. Michael knew there would be no more discussion of the particulars. Justin was back and he was back for good. Michael picked up the closest box of food and his chopsticks.

"Remember when you fucked that guy in Big Q's bathroom and I had to get the security tapes before anyone saw it?"

Brian grinned. "Yeah, that was a hot fuck, too. Complete with delicious whipped cream from the dairy section."

Michael groaned.

::::

Ben told him to stop worrying. Everything would straighten itself out, he claimed. But Michael knew better. If he left Brian and Justin to themselves, then God only knew what might come of it. There was a time when he'd thought that Justin coming back might not be the best thing for Brian, and now he knew that he'd been wrong. Brian needed Justin, and Justin needed to see that.

He stomped toward the comic book store, relieved to see Justin peering inside. He was a little late, but hopefully Justin would forgive him. For everything.

He tried to think of what to say, how to get through to him. Justin was stubborn, but so was Michael when he had to be.

Michael wasn't threatened by Justin anymore and despite his fears, he trusted him. He knew that Justin loved Brian almost as much as he did. So he gathered up his courage, faced the friend he'd accidentally fucked over, and prepared to do battle with someone he considered smarter than himself.

Michael would do anything, say absolutely anything, to get Justin to go back where he belonged. With Brian.

Justin was right. Brian would never kick Michael out. It would always be Mikey and Brian--forever. Best friends. Now he had to make sure that it would always be Justin and Brian--forever. Partners.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta readers: andtheafterglow, thistle90, cindelius, and varadia. Wind beneath my wings, chicas! All remaining errors are mine alone.


End file.
